


The Hammer and The Sickle

by theredstarofjustice



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Puns, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Come Eating, Come Shot, Dorks in Love, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Recovered Memories, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex and Banter, Snarky Idiots, Top Bucky Barnes, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredstarofjustice/pseuds/theredstarofjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Scene in the AoU trailer where the Avenger's are trying to lift Thor's Hammer. In my head, this is what really happens-</p><p> <br/>The silence in the room now broken, Clint snaps out of his shock and just looks comically annoyed.</p><p>"Seriously? I mean... Barnes of all people!? That's... That’s just Rude! That’s what it is-“</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Avengers are all gathered in the towers’ common area.

 

Everyone came together, back from whatever corner of the world, or universe in Thor’s case, that they scattered to after recent events. They’re all out there, celebrating their reunion, filling the space with noise and laughter. Everyone that is, except for one blue-eyed ex-assassin, who is currently hiding out in his own little room of the tower.

 

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with all of them at once, or really, any of them at all. It wasn’t for the lack of effort on Steve’s part. He had tried and tried to get him to come out and mingle, to convince him how much everyone wanted to see him, but it was a losing battle. Bucky was having one of his less than great days, and no amount of pleading was going to change that. Not even Steve’s easy smile and tireless puppy dog eyes were enough to pull him out from under the dark cloud he was sitting under. Of course Steve, the big idiot that he is, offered to stay with him, even if it meant not being with the people that he now calls friends. Typical Steve. Always trying to sacrifice his happiness for the benefit of others. For him. Bucky wasn’t having any of that. He wasn’t going to deprive Steve of anything just because he was having ‘one of those days.’ It took effort, but eventually he somehow managed to convince Steve to leave him to his thoughts, and go hang out with his friends.

 

Time didn’t flow the same way in Bucky’s head as it did in the real world sometimes. It had already been a couple hours since Steve left, when in the distance, and despite the soundproofing, he could hear the team getting louder and louder. They were openly laughing and talking, and at some point he swore he heard something about Thor’s hammer, not that he was really paying all that much attention. Steve had some strange friends, Bucky thought with a shrug. From what he could hear, it sounded like they were having a good time. Drifting back into his own head, he found himself, once again, lost in his thoughts. Bucky startled out of it a few minutes later when, over the clamor of all their voices, he heard that very lofty, very distinct sound of Steve's easy laughter. It was something that he didn’t hear very often, which he knew, at least in part, had more to do with him than Steve would ever admit. Despite his foul mood, and the chaos currently swirling around in his head, that sound still brought the smallest ghost of a smile to his lips. To know that Steve was enjoying himself, and that he could actually recognize what that meant all on his own, gives Bucky proof of the progress Steve always tells him he’s making.

 

* * *

 

To the surprise of everyone, Bucky included, he actually came out from under the pull of the conditioning better than anyone had expected. Sure, It was slow going at first, especially since he kept trying to alienate himself from everyone. He’d lock himself away inside his room, the one that was on the same secure floor as Steve, hoping everyone would just forget he was there. The only restrictions he really had were self-imposed. He had the freedom to move around the floor as he pleased, he chose not to. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was really all just a more elaborate, and luxurious prison cell. He rarely slept, preferring instead to stalk the halls assessing the area for threats, and avoiding his own personal hell that had become his dreams. He knew that people who were in the tower would periodically check in on him, Steve the most persistent of course, but he wouldn’t engage them. He either ignored them entirely, or was simply too lost in his own mind to even recognize their presence. The flashbacks started to hit him about 2 weeks in. Rendered helpless against their onslaught, he just watched in both fascination and horror, as the wall between his new memories, and those of his sorted past started to break down. Like watching a movie in reverse.

 

The Soldiers memories hit him first. Images and sounds, full of torture, blood, and pain. Some were his own suffering, and the torture he went through, but most were the suffering caused by his own hands. It wasn’t much of a shock to Bucky, despite how much he wished it had been. For as much remorse and anger that he felt, towards himself, toward those who forced his hand, and those that suffered by it; He ultimately knew what he had been, what he was forced into being, and what he was still capable of being. However painful, he knew he deserved to feel the full weight of all that pain, to suffer from it, to carry it with him for the rest of his life.

 

The memories of Bucky’s past, not The Soldier’s, came back much slower, and extremely out of sequence. At first it was only glimpses. Images filtered in at random, sometimes overlapping others, like a double exposed photo. Over time, the images eventually started to come in clearly, if fragmented, almost as if he was looking through holes in a wall where the bricks had been removed. He could only see small areas at a time, but what he could see, he saw in perfect detail. The images started coming through more frequently, and in a way it seemed that as soon as one brick would fall out of place, the next would loosen and fall shortly after. Following the same rules as any wall made of brick and mortar, once enough holes are made, it eventually collapses in on itself. The barrier once separating two entities becomes nothing more than a pile of rubble to step over. In that pile of rubble, broken and cracked, were things that Bucky knew should be whole and clear, but were just broken or extremely murky.

 

* * *

 

Sitting alone, listening to everyone down the hall from the comfort of his own room, Bucky lets himself drift into the memory of just how he got here in the first place. A place where he feels relatively safe, mostly whole, and for the first time in what feels like forever, not running from everything and everyone. It’s one of his clearest memories, the most cherished of all his newly acquired memories. It was his first decision as a newly restored free man. The first of many thoughts and actions he’d carry out under the command of his own volition.

 

He doesn’t understand all the science behind it, and never really understood why, but the truth is, despite their best efforts, no one ever succeeded in erasing Bucky from his mind. Not in the entirety that they wanted at least. It’s possible that the knockoff, patchwork of a serum running through his veins somehow preserved him; or maybe, for all their bravado and ego, they never truly understood what they were doing beyond theory and assumptions. The fact is, all those wipes they put him through, were never permanent. They tried to negate the lack of execution with suspended animation, freezing him with the hope that the progress they believed to be making would finally take hold. It never worked. The programming would begin to breakdown around the 48-hour mark if the Soldier was left undisturbed, frozen or not. The time was dramatically reduced if the handlers inundated The Soldier with too much information all at once. Forcing him to access and rely on his long-term memory, rather than his short term or working memory that was normally utilized for missions. In these cases, the conditioning could begin to breakdown in the span of a few hours. The last mission The Soldier was given sent the breakdown conditions into overdrive. It wasn’t just Steve’s words, though they did have a severe impact, it was the entirety of the situation. Seeing him lying there, bruised and beaten, hearing his voice cutting through his mind, watching him fall. It all seeped in, worming its way past the programming, and breaking the shell around his long-term memory for good. He saved Steve, diving after him with no thought as to why, and then he did the only thing he could; he ran. His instincts kicked in, knowing he was in no shape to fight as he could hear sirens and helicopters in the distance. Even a mindless machine like The Soldier, knew when he was too damaged to be functional, and whatever he was now, accepted that truth as well.  

He managed to avoid conflict, disappearing into the crowds of people that seemed to be everywhere in this century. He made it to Europe before he sensed that he was being followed. For weeks he was in the clear, making sure to always stay one step ahead. It’s not like he didn’t know that Steve was the one following him as he ran halfway across the world, just like he knew he wasn’t alone. They kept the cat and mouse game going for about 7 months, Bucky always one step ahead of Steve and Sam, sometimes Natasha; gaining memory after memory as he went. He was getting tired, well past tired if he was honest with himself, and finally felt like maybe, just maybe, he was stable enough, ‘Bucky’ enough, to be found. He made his decision. On some rainy day, in some run down warehouse, in some godforsaken corner of Belarus, he finally just stopped running. Bucky knew they weren’t far behind, they never really were, so he just sat down on some decrepit generator in the middle of the room and waited for them to arrive.

 

That's how Steve and Sam found him.

 

* * *

 

 

He heard them coming long before he actually saw them. He heard the tired, hopeful yet desperate panic in Steve’s voice as he barked out instructions. Apparently he had abandoned any and all attempts at remaining remotely stealthy. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at that, at least some things haven’t changed. He looked up just as the doors slammed open, one ripping completely off its hinges and the other barely holding on. He could just make out Sam’s hushed, but exasperated, berating for being so damn loud and reckless, not that Steve was actually listening to a damn word he was saying. Even through the dust in the air, kicked up by Steve’s oh so subtle entrance, Bucky clearly saw the moment Steve caught sight of him. There he was, just sitting there, in the wide-open space of the factory floor, flipping his knife absently out of boredom, with what could only be that trademark ‘Bucky’ smirk, straight out of 1940’s Brooklyn.

 

"Bucky?" Steve called out, standing there, a mixture of surprise, joy, and shock, plainly written across his face.

 

Knowing this was it, the moment of truth, Bucky tucked the knife in his hand back into its sheath, and smoothly stood up. The smirk now turning into an honest to god smile.

 

"Hey Stevie."

 

Just behind Steve, Sam stared warily at him, wound up and coiled tight, ready to get Steve away, or strike out, if he had too. Even with the apprehension he was radiating, Bucky could see the sliver of hope, that small amount of relief, resting just below the surface. Bucky liked Sam immediately.

 

Steve just stared, dumbfounded, and rooted to the spot where he stood. "Bucky-?"

 

The smile on his face falters at the pure hope shinning in Steve's eyes, and his face softens just slightly.

 

"Yeah Steve. It’s me. More or less-"

 

And for once, he actually means that. He is, for the most part, Bucky. He also knows that's not all that he is, not anymore, not ever again.

 

Sam clears his throat behind Steve, making Steve startle out of his shock momentarily.

 

"Not to sound _at all_ skeptical, but why the hell would you just let us catch you? Why after making us chase your ass halfway across the damn world, would you just give up?"

 

He can hear the skepticism creep into Sam's voice as he speaks, and really, he can't blame the guy, but the answer to his question is no less simple. Glancing back at Steve, he can't help the real, although exhausted smile that pulls at his lips again.

 

"I'm tired. Tired of running. Tired of dealing with all this shit-" He points to his head. "Alone." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "I just- I want- I just want to go home..."

 

He barely manages gets the words out before he's got 240 lbs of Super Soldier wrapped around him like some maniac octopus, softly sobbing into his shoulder. He feels his own eyes dampen, tears threatening to fall, and glances back up at Sam, still standing in the same spot looking on. After a few seconds, Sam seems to deflate, huffing out a breath, and rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him. A small amount of what looks like exasperated fondness flashes across his face as he just watches the two of them. Steve lets him go with a sniffle as he wipes at his eyes and turns back toward Sam, never letting go of Bucky's right arm. Sam just nods at Steve and shrugs, clearly more at ease than he was a few minutes ago. He walks up, clasping Steve on the shoulder, a with a small nod of understanding. Sam turns to Bucky, and without pause, extends him his hand.

 

"Sam Wilson. It's good to finally meet you... The you, you I mean. We’ve met. Just not, you and me. Ya know?"

 

Bucky actually huffs out a laugh at Sam’s rambling introduction, and some of his tension finally subsides.

 

"James Barnes. Call me Bucky. And yeah, I get it."

 

The sound of another person clearing their throat makes all of them jump, eyes scanning for the source of the sound. Out of seemingly thin air, there stands Natasha, a completely unreadable look gracing her face. Her gaze shifts from Sam, to Steve, then finally settles on Bucky. The hairs on his neck bristle, and every instinct he has is screaming at him. He shifts his body slightly, more than just a little uncomfortable under that stare. It’s like she’s searching for something, on his face, or in his soul, he’s not entirely sure. She must find what she’s looking for, as he sees her stance take on a little less tension, despite the hardness remaining in her eyes.

 

A small flash of fear crosses Steve’s face as he looks at her, but before he can stutter out an explanation, Natasha just raises her hand up to stop him.

 

"I heard everything. Followed you here. Figured I'd hide out, see if you boys were gonna need me to bail you out." Her eyes cut to Bucky. "Or something."

 

Sam’s the first one to speak, breaking the tension filled silence that has suddenly covered the room.

 

“Where the hell did you even come from? You weren’t here a minute ago-“

 

She raises her eyebrow, as her lip curls into a smirk, and flicks her eyes up to indicate the ceiling.

 

“Man, that’s never stops bein’ creepy...“

 

She just rolls her eyes as she looks at them all. Her face is radiating annoyance as much as fondness, but never losing that hard edge. One more hard piercing glare at Bucky, and she lets out an equally exhausted sigh.

 

"Ok, well. If you boys are done here, let's get the Sargent home-"

 

A collective look of pure relief washes over their faces, bringing out a genuinely amused smirk to Natasha's lips.

 

"What? Like I said, I heard everything. Saw everything too." She paused and turned toward Bucky. "Nice to see you again James."

 

Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. “Natalia...“

 

“Natasha. Just. It’s Natasha now.“

 

“Bucky. Not. Not James.“

 

She gave a quick nod, before she glanced at Steve, then back to him. Analyzing, studying something unseen, making connections he couldn’t think about at the moment. She motioned for Sam to follow her, but not before he saw something flare in her eyes, something dangerous, something protective. He knew she didn’t fully trust him, or Steve’s judgment for that matter, and he couldn’t blame her for that. He was dangerous, and Steve had a tendency to be a huge idiot sometimes. She was right not to trust him, knowing first hand what he’s capable of. He knew he'd never hurt them, especially Steve, but she didn’t have the luxury of blind trust. She made it her duty to protect Steve, all of them, and he could never condemn her for that kind of loyalty.

 

* * *

 

That had been over 9 months ago.

 

He shakes his head to clear it, letting the memories fade into the background, as he takes in his current surroundings. Everything in here reminds him of Steve, hell, it even smells like Steve. It still amazes him that by some miracle he gets to wake up here every morning. With him. Hell, that blond idiot is his reason for waking up most mornings. Steve somehow always manages to wake up before him, those piercing blue eyes, and that tired lazy smile, greeting him the second he opens his eyes. Even in the haze of waking up, he can almost feel the love radiating off that man. Bucky smiles at the thought, like he does with most Steve related thoughts these days. Even on his darkest days, when a scowl is the only thing that will make it to his face, somewhere deep inside, a smile is still ghosting across his mind.

 

While he has vague memories of their relationship before all of this, that’s also where the biggest holes in his memory are. Despite all the other horrors fighting for space in his mind, that is what plagues Bucky everyday. More than anything, those memories are the one’s he wants back. It’s not a question of whether or not he loves Steve, he knows that much is true, probably always has been, but he can't actually remember it. He’s told Steve as much, on many occasions, but Steve just tells him it doesn't matter. He says all that matters is what he feels now, in this moment, and instead of looking back, they should just move forward.

 

Bucky knows that as much as Steve wants to believe that, the look in his eyes betrays the words coming out of his mouth every time. Bucky never says anything, but he can't pretend that he doesn't see the sadness in his eyes, the loss. Steve had never been good at hiding his emotions, particularly not from Bucky, and it doesn’t seem to have changed. It takes its toll on Bucky, and by default Steve as well. As much as he wants to believe otherwise, Bucky knows that it's because of him that their current relationship hasn't progressed to where he knows they both want it to be.

 

That’s not to say it hasn’t progressed at all. They’re finally sleeping in the same bed at night. Cuddling, some light touches, and occasional kisses have become fairly normal in their everyday life as well. Anything beyond that though is pretty much nonexistent. Most days, Bucky doesn’t feel worthy of more. He feels like he's still not the man he needs to be, the man Steve truly deserves. It's not that he doesn't want more, god he wants more, so much some days that he aches with need and desire, but he just can't make himself cross that final line.

 

He forces restraint on himself, fearing that somehow he will taint Steve, that the darkness that now curls around his soul will tarnish the pure light that is Steve Rogers. He’s afraid that he'll never be the Bucky that Steve fell in love with all those years ago, afraid that he’ll lose him because of it.

 

Steve of course is the epitome of stubborn disagreement on the subject. His seemingly endless patience for him, patience that Bucky knows the man has never processed his entire life, for anything or anyone. Bucky suspects that may be his real super power. Steve’s response to Bucky’s fear is always the same.

 

"Buck- I’m not gonna leave- Why would I? I've waited 70 years to get this far- To get you back- And if I have to wait 70 more- If that's what it takes- Then that’s what I’ll do."

 

"It's not a matter of being worthy Buck- There is no winning me over- Being something your not- I’m not just some virginal symbol of virtue- I’m not just 'Captain America'- You know that- you've always known that’s not who I am- I'm just plain old Steve Rogers- Some dumb punk from Brooklyn who fell in love with some jerk that jumped into a fight to save my scrawny ass – And we both know that I may be bigger now- But I haven't really changed."

 

Steve loves his speeches, but he’s not wrong.

 

He's still the same reckless, self-sacrificing idiot of a man he's always been. He knows Steve loves him, and apparently that’s all that really matters according to Steve. Especially since it's painfully obvious that Bucky loves him just as much, even if it’s hard for him to show it sometimes. There’s no doubt in his mind that Steve's words are genuine, but he just can't bring himself to embrace them. If Bucky's being completely honest, he knows it's going to take much more than mere words and actions, no matter how love filled and good intentioned, to convince him he’s anything but unworthy. He’d say an act of God maybe, if he still believed, or something on that scale. A wish, a hope, a damn miracle is really what he needs. Unfortunately, one glance at his track record would show that things like that never come through for Bucky **.**

 

* * *

 

As if the universe felt the necessity to confirm Bucky's theory, suddenly he's jolted back to reality by a piercing screech cutting through the sounds in the other room. It sounded like a scream, but shrill and metallic. It's almost like metal grinding against metal; a sound Bucky knows all to well. He moves to the door, cracking it open, and that's when he hears it. A booming artificial voice, filled with menace and disdain, and definitely not Jarvis. An ominous feeling grips him, as all coherent thoughts but one fly out the window.

 

"Steve"

 

He's out the door and running toward the common room before he can even register what he's doing. Clad only in a pair of Steve's sweat pants, barefoot and shirtless, he doesn't even think to grab any weapons as he blots down the hallway. He just acts on pure instinct, and fear.

 

He hears that voice again, metallic and threatening, reverberating through the halls as he gets closer. As his anxiety builds, his run turns to an all out sprint. The only other sound he can hear above that hollow voice, are the servos in his arm continuously recalibrating as his body subconsciously prepares for battle. He rounds the corner to the common room and stops dead in his tracks.

 

All eyes in the room are trained on what looks like some skeletal version of one of Tony's suits. Something is very wrong though, seeing as this suit seems to be walking and talking all on its own. An icy shiver runs through Bucky's body. There was no way this was ending well.

 

Sometimes he really hates the future.

 

Some part of him had hoped this was just another one of Starks 'awesome inventions' that he was showing off, or in other words, Tony being Tony.  Taking notice of the collective postures and stances on the group, shifting and preparing for a fight, he knew that was all just wishful thinking.

 

He can tell that, for the most part, they're unarmed. Natalia probably has a weapon on her, she always has a weapon, but he knows Steve doesn't have his shield seeing as it's back in their room. His eyes catch on Steve’s form. He can see the muscles in his back shifting beneath his shirt, how the fabric is straining to contain all that beautiful power that lies just below the surface. How those pants just make his-

 

"Fuck" Bucky whispers to himself.

 

He knows that any other time he'd could just stand back and admire the view, but this wasn't exactly the opportune time to be getting a hardon thinking about what's under those clothes, especially seeing as the man he loves more than anything looks like he's about to do something incredibly reckless and stupid.

 

Typical.

 

Bucky keeps to the shadows, assessing the situation, while he scans for anything that can be used as a weapon. Other than hurling furniture at the thing, there’s nothing much of use. The only other thing is Thor's hammer, sitting on the table, but seeing that it has that whole 'only if your worthy' thing going on, that's not all that helpful. That leaves him with his left arm and not much else.

 

One metal arm and a serum enhanced, but human body, versus an entire android made out of god knows what, doesn't really having him loving the odds. Bucky silently curses himself for not grabbing something, anything, a shirt for example, or shoes, or a knife, or Steve's shield, or anything even remotely useful. It's not as if he can intimidate a soulless robot with just sweatpants and his recently less than charming personality. 

That thing, Ultron, or whatever it called itself, starts getting all speechy, going on about destroying humanity and all that other long-winded bullshit villains tend to go on about. Bucky’s not really paying attention, he’s heard all this posturing and bullshit before. It’s only when that thing turns toward Steve, glowing red eyes focused like a laser sight, and says something about "freedom and all it stands for" being the first thing to go that Bucky’s attention is captured. It raises its arm, fingertips glowing a sickening orange color, charging up, glowing brighter and brighter, aimed directly at Steve.

 

Bucky's sight goes red.

 

* * *

 

Everything around him slows, time coming to a screeching halt. Images flash in front of his eyes in rapid succession.

 

Steve, small and frail, lying in a bed, flush with fever, and convulsing with pain.

 

Steve bruised and swelled from taking another beating in a fight he just ‘knew he could handle.'

 

The terror in Steve eyes as he watched Bucky fall off that damn train to his 'death.'

 

The resignation in his eyes as he lie bloody under the fists of the man he loves.

 

It's not just Steve he's seeing; it all the times he’s almost lost him.

 

* * *

 

He blinks, a single tear rolling down his cheek, as the images fade away. As time resumes its normal pace, he feels a strange sensation in the air, something pressing at his body, trying to invade his senses.

 

A second later, he feels a wave of energy surge toward him. Some unseen force flows into him, pulling at his body and mind, demanding his attention. He catches a spark, a glint of electricity, out of the corner of his eye. He turns, and there, still sitting within arms reach, is Thor's hammer resting idly on the table. A kind of clarity hits him, unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and with complete certainty, he knows what he has to do.

 

It's like a magnetic pull, how a moth must feel when faced with a flame. The only words in his mind are repeating like a mantra; “Protect Steve.”  With no consideration, no hesitation, and no other thought in his head, he reaches out, flesh hand gripping the handle, and hefts Mjölnir from its resting place. 

 

A brilliant white light engulfs Bucky's body as soon as the hammer is in his hand. He can feel the weight, hear the crackle of electricity around him, the taste of ozone on his tongue. It invades all of his senses, and finally his mind.

 

It’s like all the lights in his head, even those in the darkest corners, all flick on at once.

 

Everything clicks into place. Images flood back, holes and gaps filling up, rearranging and slotting back into the correct order. It’s like the cycles his arm runs though to recalibrate during battle, plates shifting and locking into place.

 

With a guttural roar, he springs into action.

 

"Get the FUCK away from him!"

 

Bucky’s body shifts, stretching and coiling, creating the perfect fulcrum with his body. His twists, all the grace of a Bolshoi dancer, all the deadly precision of an assassin, and the hammer is suddenly hurtling though the air on the echo of Bucky's voice. 

 

There is lightning streaking through the air, ending in a blinding mass of sparks as it slams full force into the chest of that deranged “Not Jarvis.”

 

The force of the impact sends it flying back, slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch, as it slumps forward motionless and eerily silent. The hammer arcs itself back to Bucky, and without conscious thought, he snatches it out of the air.

 

He’s just standing there, completely still, staring at the mess in front of him. His mind is reeling from all the new information. Lost in a haze of memories, of feelings, of knowledge. Everything thing he is, everything he was, all laid out for him in his minds eye. Of course, he mostly sees Steve. His Steve. He remembers everything. His is face set like stone and colored with rage, but there are tears streaking down his checks.

 

He feels it like a punch to the gut.

 

For the first time, in 2 lifetimes, he knows who he truly is; who James Buchanan Barnes truly is.

 

Movement catches Bucky's eye, pulling him out of his stupor, as Ultron rights itself and stumbles forward, damaged but not destroyed. Still tense and coiled for a fight, he shifts the hammer in his hand, as it speaks.

 

"You can’t win. Your end will come. All of you. I am the means to an end."

 

It raises its arms as the wall behind him explodes and 4 more androids come flying through. Ultron blasts out an escape route through the ceiling, debris cascading down all around as its repulsers engage and carry that infernal machine and its goons out of the tower. Bucky just watches with uneasy fascination.

 

It takes him a second to realize that the room has gone silent, except for the sound of debris settling and the sound of his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

 

Bucky slowly turns around, his muscles taut, veins bulging, the plates in his arm whirring and shifting. His chest is still heaving from the physical and mental onslaught. He just stands there, facing them, in nothing but a pair of low-riding sweatpants and Thor's hammer gripped in his right hand. His normally steel blue eyes are illuminated buy the vein of electricity weaving through them and his body is giving off a faint, pulsating glow like some sort of avenging angel.

 

With the immediate threat gone, and the surge of adrenaline receding from his veins, Bucky suddenly realizes one very important fact; there are other people in the room with him. 

 

* * *

 

 

They are all staring at him with various stages of shock and surprise on their face. If the situation weren’t so loaded, it'd actually be pretty damn hilarious.

 

Even Tony, for all his infamous ability to not keep his mouth shut, stands shocked silent for once.

 

Bruce and that Rhodey guy are just staring, with almost matching blank looks.

 

Clint's mouth is hanging open like some cartoon character, and Hill isn't much better.

 

Natalia, no, Natasha now he has to remind himself, had this almost knowing smirk on her face, clearly amused by the situation, but face still laced with a degree of surprise.

 

Thor, well, Bucky had to keep himself from actually laughing at the dumbfounded look on the gods face. At least he didn’t look angry, so that was a bonus.

 

He turned to Steve last, holding his breath as he prepared himself to face the most important person in the room. The look on Steve's face is almost indescribable. It's a mixture of pure shock, surprise, and something almost dark and unreadable, almost predatory. His pupils blown so wide he almost looks demonic. 

 

The look sends a shiver down Bucky's spine, while igniting a fire in his belly all the same. He shakes his head to clear it, hair falling to frame his face, trying to escape from that look that feels like Steve is stripping him bare.

 

He glances down at the hammer, in his hand, and shifts it a little, weighing it, before he looks back up at Steve with a full-blown genuine smile, as he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. His eyes lock with Steve and his smile gets impossible brighter, if a little mischievous.

 

"Ya know Stevie, I'm pretty sure this thing weighs more than you did before all this." He waves his hands indicating Steve's body and winks at him. "Still, can pick it up about as easily though."

 

Bucky can’t help but nervously chuckle at the look on Steve's face, his eyes full of confusion, as he plans out his next words carefully.  

 

“July 5th, 1936. You always said the 4th but it was after midnight. So. It was actually the 5th“

 

Steve’s eyes grow dark, as realization flashes over those perfect features. He sees the moment that Steve realizes that he remembers.

 

Their first time. Steve’s 18th birthday, the day he finally found his balls and made his move. The missing piece of the puzzle.

 

Steve’s eyes are shinning, unshed tears making the blue seem almost fluid. He knows. He knows that Bucky is really truly Bucky again. Bucky has to swallow down the emotions boiling in him, threatening to come pouring out right there in front of everyone. 

 

Bucky breaks his gaze with Steve, and turns to Thor, flipping the hammer around, holding the bulk of it in his hand pointing the handle towards him and smirks.

 

"I believe this belongs to you Big Guy."

 

It takes a beat, but Thor comes out of his shock and takes Mjölnir back, a smile creeping onto his face.

 

"Brother Barnes!"

 

Before Bucky can register what's happening he's being crushed in a borderline painful hug. Thor’s beaming like a proud parent when he steps back and looks down at Bucky.

 

“You are a worthy warrior Brother Barnes- A champion among your people-“

 

The silence in the room now broken, Clint snaps out of his shock and just looks comically annoyed.

 

"Seriously? I mean... Barnes of all people!? That's... That’s just  _Rude!_  That’s what it is-“  

 

Natasha reaches out and smacks the back of his head with one hand, and covers his mouth with the other, effectively shutting him up before he manages to stick his foot further in his mouth. Clint crosses his arms like a petulant child, but eventually huffs out his surrender.

 

Natasha steps forward and places a small kiss on Bucky's check before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

 

"он был прав-” The smirk clear in her voice. “Я бы никогда не поверил, если бы не увидел своими глазами.”

 

He pulls back, a question in his eyes, as he sneaks a look at Steve across the room. She gives a small nod, rolls her eyes, and pats his cheek as she turns and walks away. 

 

"Hey Jarvis, buddy, please tell me you caught all of... Whatever the hell just happened-"

 

Tony says off to the side, a nonchalant tone in his voice like this kind of stuff happens everyday. In his world, maybe it actually does. 

 

"Of course Sir" Jarvis confirms, with what sounds like exasperation in his voice.

 

Tony claps his hands together and laughs as grabs Bruce and Rhodey and starts pulling them out of the room, toward the elevator.

 

"Uh, Tony? Where are we-" Bruce tries to get out before Tony cuts him off.

 

"Science. Damage control. Figuring out how all that just happened. And what exactly "that" was. Take your pick."

 

He’s stuck rambling on about some kind of conspiracy or something, as the elevator doors close behind them.

 

There’s still a palpable tension in the room, and Natasha somehow senses it. Glancing at Bucky, they lock eyes, in an almost silent conversation, before her eyes flit behind him, almost imperceptibly at Steve, and come settle back on him. Bucky doesn't know what to make of the almost sympathetic, yet knowing look that passes over her face, until he turns around himself. It's like all the air leaves the room when his eyes land on Steve. Natasha seems to understand, and with some effort, finally manages to herd a still complaining Clint, and Agent Hill, out of the room, with a knowing nod at Bucky as they leave the room.

 

It's finally just the two of them, alone at last. The tension draping over them like a wet blanket.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve is just standing there, completely still, like he's still in shock.

 

As Bucky looks on, really looks at Steve, tendrils of fear and worry start to twist their way around his heart. He walks slowly toward Steve, not wanting to startle him, but needing to be closer.

 

The look in Steve's eyes is wild, and unguarded as Bucky takes that final step, putting him directly in front of Steve.

Bucky's voice cracks as he tries to speak.

 

"Steve? Are you..." Steve looks up, tears gleaming in his eyes, as a barely audible whisper leaves his mouth.

 

"You picked it up. No one could. I couldn't. Buck- you... It's really you..."

 

Bucky reaches up, lightly caressing Steve's check.

 

"Yeah Stevie. It's me. It’s really me. I don't know how, but it jus-"

 

Steve leans into the touch for a moment before a wild feral growl rips out of him; unlike anything Bucky has ever heard.  Before he can even get the words out, he's suddenly slammed up against the wall, completely pinned by Steve’s bulk. 

 

The air slams out of his lungs, completely caught off guard, as Bucky gasps at the impact. Steve’s suddenly right there, surrounding him. The heat from his body radiating into him, and his eyes burning with a fire that Bucky can’t even begin to name. Steve grabs his hands, pulling them over his head and pins them to the wall with just his forearm. He leans in, barely a hairs width of distance between them, as his breath ghosts his words over Bucky’s lips. 

 

"Do you believe me now Buck?"

 

The fire that was burning in his belly earlier completely engulfs his body like a wildfire at this new turn of events. He’s barely registering the words that Steve’s whispering out.

 

"Wha-? Believe you? What are y-" Oh _Oh_

 

Steve pushes in impossibly closer, and Bucky becomes extremely aware of how hard Steve’s cock is as it presses against him. 

 

"Do. You. Believe. Me. Now. James Buchanan Barnes"

 

Bucky pulls back slightly, freeing his arms from Steve's grip, and sliding them down over his shoulders, across that perfect chest, and letting them settle on his waist. He looks up into the inferno raging in Steve's eyes, and can’t help but smirk as he leans in to give him his answer.

 

As his lips brush the spot just below Steve’s ear, his voice comes out as nothing more than a whispered growl.

 

"I think it's time I showed you just how much-" 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Buck-”

Steve starts in, thinking that he made a horrible mistake, until he hears Bucky’s words.

Suddenly Bucky wrenches them around, his back slamming into the wall, and Bucky’s kissing him hard enough that he’s pretty sure it’s going to bruise. Steve brings his hands up to Bucky’s shoulders, but Bucky moves too fast, and pins Steve’s arms above his head, just like Steve had him a moment ago.

“Not rethinking this are you?”

Steve looks at him, eyes full of unguarded lust, and shakes his head, jaw slack, and painfully turned on.

“Good.”

* * *

 

Bucky uses Steve’s temporary stupor to his advantage and crashes his lips back into Steve’s, tongues battling for dominance as Bucky practically fucks his tongue into Steve’s mouth, in silent promise of what’s to come.

“Fuck Steve.” Bucky’s mumbles into Steve’s mouth, causing Steve to shudder against him.

Bucky pulls back nipping at Steve’s lip, staring into those damn blue eyes that have gone at least 3 shades darker.

Steve tips his head back with a moan, resting it against the wall he’s pinned against. Bucky makes use of Steve’s bared throat, licking up the taught muscle straining beneath the surface, as leans in to whisper in Steve’s ear, desire choking his words.

“Hey Stevie, do you... Do you remember our first time?”

Steve breath stutters as his body tenses from Bucky’s breath ghosting over his ear. Bucky’s words making him impossibly harder. He had almost forgotten how this felt. How much he loves this. He’s so lost in the moment, that he almost misses Bucky’s words. He smiles that dorky little half smile that Bucky has always loved, and somehow finds his voice though the lust filled daze he’s currently in.

“Yeah. I. Of course I- Yeah Buck, course, I do.”

Bucky smirks. “Well, then” he purrs, and Steve’s cock twitches, his pants growing more uncomfortable by the second.

Steve has other plans.

As his body tenses, he summons all his strength, breaking Bucky’s hold, flipping them back to their original positions.

Bucky’s back connects with the wall as Steve’s body slams in, his lips taken in a kiss possibly even more violent than the first, and absolutely perfect.

Steve pulls back slightly, and Bucky can feel the small huff of a laugh against his lips.

Without warning, Steve is sliding down to his knees, never breaking eye contact with Bucky, as he starts to nuzzle his check against the straining length barely contained by the worn sweatpants Bucky’s still wearing.

* * *

 

Bucky lets out a startled moan as Steve starts to mouth at his still covered cock. A small smirk graces Steve’s lips at the sound, hidden by the thick fabric he’s currently pressed up against, as Bucky makes needy and impatient noises above him. He feels a hand come down and weave into his hair, human fingers gripping almost painfully tight. Steve glances up, and see’s those steel blue eyes, half-lidded and lust filled, framed by the curtain of Bucky’s hair as he stares down at him. The sweat glistening off his flawed but perfect body, and to say that Bucky looks like anything but a walking wet dream would be pure insanity. Steve presses his check in harder against Bucky, eliciting a growl from the man above him.

He leans back slightly with a knowing smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye.

 “What’s wrong Buck? Need something?”  

Steve voice comes out shaky, and about an octave lower than normal because, Fuck, just the way Bucky looks at him, like he’s about to devour him- He never thought he’d have that again.

He leans back in, kissing the spot right below Bucky’s navel, his hands slipping up and gripping onto Bucky’s thighs. He trails kisses down on his way to the waistband of the offending pants. He hears Bucky’s breath hitch as he pulls on one of the ties with his teeth, loosening the knot.

Slowly he begins to draw the pants down, leaving a trail of searing kisses on any newly exposed skin as he makes his decent.  

As he finally drags the fabric down over the head of Bucky’s swollen cock, he realizes there’s nothing underneath; Bucky has gone commando.

A wave of need hits Steve like a truck, practically drooling, as the desire burns hot in the pit of his stomach. He teasingly runs his tongue over the slit, basking in the taste that is purely Bucky.

Above him Bucky releases a noise that sounds like someone just punched all the air out of his lungs. Steve feels the full body shudder that rips though Bucky, before his fingers tighten in his hair even more, just on the pleasurable side of painful.

Steve chuckles and looks up at Bucky.

“Somethin’ wrong Buck?” He says, with that fake innocence Bucky remembers all too well, lacing his voice.

Bucky brings his hand down, thumb tracing over Steve’s cheekbone, already to the point that all he can do is pant out a breathy, “No-”

Bucky swallows, his mouth so dry it feels like he’s choking on sand.

“I just. I need. Fuck Steve. I just need you.”

He see’s Steve’s eyes get impossibly dark at his words; obsidian pools ringed by that intense light blue. Steve’s breath stutters as his words come out.

“Jesus Buck. I- Fuck. Anything Buck.”

The words are still lingering in the air as Steve drops his head, his mouth finally engulfing Bucky’s cock. Slowly, he takes in every inch until it’s filing his mouth and pushing at the back of his throat. He moans as he is consumed by the taste of Bucky on his tongue. Desperate for more, he swallows around him, feeling the muscles in throat pulling every glorious inch of Bucky’s cock in deeper, until his lips finally circle around the base.

Bucky’s gasping, writhing above him, overwhelmed by the sensations crashing though him, but his body is silently demanding more. 

“Stevie... Jesus fuck- Shit Ste- Holy Fu-.”

With Bucky still seated fully in his throat, Steve moans at Bucky’s words, the vibration assaulting the head of Bucky’s cock.

Just watching as Steve takes his cock deeper, cheeks hollowed, eyes half-lidded with lust, Bucky doesn’t know whether he’s going to pass out or erupt into that perfect velvety wet heat. ‘That damn mouth,’ he thinks absently, may just be the death of him.

“Steve,” Bucky rasps out. “Fuck, Jesus Christ Stevie-. Fuck, I can’t- you, holy shi- you’re, ah- you’re so fuckin-” 

Bucky can’t form sentences, not with those perfect lips wrapped so tightly around him. His body is on fire, his hips thrusting deeper into Steve’s throat on their own accord, losing himself in the moment. Steve’s grip on his thighs tightens as he starts trying to pull Bucky in even deeper, forcing himself to gag on Bucky’s cock, spit dripping out of his mouth, while the obscene noises he’s making keep reverberating through Bucky’s body.

Bucky is so awash in sensation, but he can feel the heat creeping up his spine, the pressure building, and threating to spill out and end this far too soon.

“Ste- Steve,” Bucky gasps, words clipped and desperate.

“Steve, I’m gonna. If you don’t- You.. you need.  To.  St- stop.”

With a frustrated groan, Steve slips Bucky out of his mouth with a very wet, very audible pop that seems to echo through the room. 

“That’s kinda the idea here Buck” Steve rasps out, his voice hoarse and raw, with a hint of disappointment.

“I- I wanted... I wanted you to-.”  Steve sounds so breathless and desperate that it takes effort for Bucky to get his mind working again.

Bucky takes a deep setting breath, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

“I know, Steve. God, I know. But. Just- just get your ass up here.”

Bucky steadies himself so that he can haul Steve up on his feet. Luckily Steve goes willingly.

* * *

 

Finally eye-to-eye again, Steve’s hands hot on his chest, Bucky can see just how gorgeous Steve is in the throws of his ecstasy. It hurts deep down knowing that there was a time when he had no memory of this, of what Steve looked like with his eyes dilated, debauched yet radiating pure love and want. It was something he vowed then and there he’d die before ever letting it be taken from him again.

He lets his gaze roam over Steve’s body, a low growl building in his chest.

Without warning, he’s pulling Steve in, laying his claim to Steve’s mouth. He wraps himself around those big arms and solid shoulders, trapping Steve’s body against his own. Steve immediately starts writhing and rutting against him with no shame, moaning his name against his lips.

“Bucky.” Steve grinds out, trying to get more friction, as his hand snakes down across Bucky’s abdomen, heading south toward his still engorged cock.

Bucky’s reflexes snap into to action, as he manages to get ahold of Steve’s hand right before it reaches its target.  With the stealth and grace only an ex-assassin could possess, he twists them around, once again and forcibly shoves Steve back against the wall; Steve’s wrists pinned behind his back.

Bucky leans in and whispers hotly in Steve’s ear.

“It’s my turn now Stevie.”

Steve just stares, dumbfounded and incredibly turned on, and nods like an idiot, a wicked smirk gracing Bucky’s features.

Bucky takes a step back, dragging Steve along with him, keeping his hands behind his back with his flesh and blood hand, while the metal one traces up over Steve’s side, up over his sculpted stomach, and finally coming to rest on the muscular chest heaving beneath it.

The buttons on Steve’s shirt clink against the metal of his hand as he fumbles to get them open. Frustrated and needing a far more naked Steve, he finally gives up and just rips the offending shirt from Steve’s body. The sound of buttons scattering over the floor is drowned out by the fevered moan that escapes Steve’s lips as his fever hot skin meets the cool air.

Steve sucks in a breath as that smooth metallic hand, skims over an overly sensitive nipple, goose bumps breaking out on his skin; not from the cold, but from sheer unrelenting desire.

Bucky drags his hand down across Steve’s clenching abdominals, settling on the waistband of his jeans. Not willing to wait any longer then necessary, the jeans meet the same fate as Steve’s shirt; ripped at the seams and thrown across the room forgotten.  

Steve is squirming under the assault of that metal hand ghosting over his body, back arching, trying to get closer Bucky’s body, to feel his heat pushing up against him. As Bucky’s hand travels lower, the fire building in Steve consumes him. It’s like he’s helpless to the ministrations of that damn metal hand, and he loves it.  

Steve’s about to cry out, beg Bucky to touch his aching cock, when he feels Bucky’s hand slip past his angry red shaft, lightly skimming over his balls, moving lower, and lower, until one of his metal digits brushes over his entrance.

* * *

 

“FUCK” 

Steve gasps as Bucky’s finger traces the rim, stopping to flick over the hole every so often. Steve’s eyes roll back, and he bites his lip, hard, as he tries not to fall apart right then and there.

Bucky’s eyes are on him, watching him, studying him, like a predator watching his prey.

“Jesus Steve”

Bucky grunts out as he continues to stroke over that sensitive hole.

“Fuck. I love you. So fucking much- You know. You know that. Don’t you!?”

Steve’s eyes snap open at Bucky’s words. He licks his lips, nodding deftly but unable to form words.

“I. Fucking. Love. You.” 

Each word out of Bucky’s mouth punctuated by jab to the center of his now extremely sensitive his hole, a little more force each time. Steve whines, letting his head loll back, thumping against the wall.

Bucky leans in and licks along Steve’s throat.

“Want you Steve- Want you now-”

“God yes.” Steve grits out between clenched teeth.

“Yes. Bucky. Fuck..  Please Buck. More, I- I need it. Fuck I need you...“

“Steve-” Bucky huffs out, dragging his fingers up his body to those swollen and spit soaked lips. He traces them, and as they silently part, Bucky eases a metal finger into that warm wet heat. For the first time he wished he had more feeling in the prosthetic, as Steve’s lips close on his finger, drawing it, soaking it with spit, almost drooling from the effort.

* * *

 

 

Bucky watches intently as he pulls out the now gleaming metal, a trail of spit suspended from the tip to Steve’s lips. Mesmerizing as it may be, Bucky doesn’t waste any time getting it back to its mission. He grazes Steve’s trembling hole, finally slipping past that quivering ring of muscle and into Steve.

The pressure sensors in his hand light up like a Christmas tree at how tight Steve is around him.

Steve’s clenching around him, bearing down on that hard digit, his fingernails digging in and dragging down Bucky's back as his finger is sliding hard against his inner walls.

The slow slide is driving Steve crazy as Bucky searches out his goal; that magical little spot he knows will push Steve into pure ecstasy. A loud moan, a gasp, and then Steve‘s crying out, muscles tensing and eyes flying open, ablaze with lust.

Bingo

Bucky smirks as he crooks his finger, making sure it hits home every time he moves.

"More Bucky. More. More..."

Steve’s mantra is ringing in his ears.

Not willing to deny Steve anything, especially when he’s like this, Bucky slides a second finger alongside the one already buried to the hilt inside him.

The feeling of the muscle straining and stretching, gripping impossibly tighter, has Bucky almost whining.

Scissoring his fingers, he traps that wondrous spot deep within Steve, rubbing and rolling it between the two cold digits; forcing out almost pained whines on each pass.

"Not enough. Need more. You. I need you. In me, right now. Make me worthy too-" he begged, voice dripping with desire and sounding half fucked-out already.

* * *

 

 

Bucky can’t stop the whimper that escapes his mouth as he slowly withdraws his fingers from that tight heat, knowing that the metal can’t register half of what his cock is about to feel.

Bucky leans in, metal hand sliding down just far enough to get the leverage he needs, as he hooks his arm around Steve’s thigh, and pulls him up, his legs immediately locking around Bucky’s waist.

It takes Steve a second to process before the most wanton sound Bucky’s ever heard escapes out of his mouth.

As Steve tries to grind his hips forward, Bucky is pushing him back firmly against the wall, only one hand holding him in place.

“Oh Fuck! Jesus Buck! Your so.. So strong! Fuck!” 

Steve bites down hard on his bottom lip, almost drawing blood, his hooded eyes rolling back, and his head falling limp to Bucky’s shoulder. Steve’s legs are straining, shaking from his arousal, a shudder rips though his body as his legs tighten around Bucky’s waist.

Bucky manhandles and maneuvers Steve’s tight, but pliant, body, until he can just brush the head of his cock over Steve’s hole, teasing more of those obscene noises to fall from his lips.  

Steve is practically in tears every time Bucky’s cock grazes his hole. He can feel Bucky’s pre-come oozing out, slicking him up more and more at every pass. He’s arching his back, trying to press himself down desperately onto Bucky’s throbbing heat. To be full, to finally be whole again after all this time.

 

* * *

Bucky surges forward, teeth nipping at Steve’s bottom lip before pulling him in and sealing their mouths together again. Steve’s constant grinding has him practically snarling with the need coursing through his veins.

Suddenly very aware of the situation, and with a hint of doubt lacing his deep and gravely voice, Bucky finally manages to form words.

"S-Steve. Are you- are you sure? We don't have to-"

The incredulous huff that comes out of Steve as he brokenly chuckles out his response against Bucky’s lips shatters his lingering fears. 

"Seriously? Fuck Bucky...  Just shut up, and fuck me already!"

Steve's hips twitched as he watched Bucky's eyes darken and felt his fingers tighten their grip, far past caring whether or not he was leaving behind any bruises.

"Fuck.” Bucky hissed, pulling away from Steve’s mouth, a final nip to the blonds bottom lip.

"That’s the plan." Steve chuckled.

"So why don’t ya get to it Buck."

Absent of any more self-control, not that he had much to begin with, Bucky finally lines up his still leaking shaft and begins to slowly press into him.

The heat is intense, Bucky’s eyes rolling back as he sinks deeper and deeper into this fucking perfect specimen in his arms. He can hear the slow exhale coming from Steve, forcing himself to relax. For a second Bucky worries, though one look at Steve’s face dispels any need to.

His face is twisted in pure pleasure, and at that, Bucky continues his torturously slow decent into complete bliss. After what feels like hours, he finally bottoms out, feeling the press of Steve’s ass on his pelvis. He pauses, just relishing in the tight, excruciating heat, and giving Steve time to adjust to the intrusion.

"Steve? Are you ok?"

Steve is panting, lost to the sensation, each breath tensing and squeezing the muscles around Bucky’s cock.

"I’m... I’m good Buck... So fucking full-“

Bucky groans, leaning in, a line of scorching kisses trailing down his neck and across his collarbone.

"Steve-" Bucky gasps as there are suddenly calloused fingers sliding across the seam where metal meets flesh.

His lips soon replace his fingers, as Steve places sloppy kisses all over the metal of his shoulder, tongue darting out to trace along the scars. They’re hyper-sensitive, and it doesn’t take to much before Bucky is tugging hard on Steve's hair pulling his face up, off his shoulder, crashing their lips together desperate and needy.

He feel Steve’s fingernails are clawing into his back as he drags them down hard, damn near drawing blood, as a feral noise comes out of him.

“Move Buck- Fucking Move-“ he keens, moving his hands back up to grip Bucky's shoulders, pressing down hard, in a silent plea for more.

Bucky rocks his hips back, slowly sliding out of Steve, only to slowly press back in again while Steve lets out a long-suffering moan trying to pull Bucky in harder.

"Faster Bucky-" he demands, “I can take it-“  

“Steve-“ Bucky grates out, as he finally just lets go.

A feral growl echoes through the room, like an animal finally free of its cage, he gains momentum, his pace getting faster, harder, until he’s pistoning in and out of him at almost inhuman speed.

“Jesus Stevie. Look at you-” Bucky pants, words slipping out of his mouth.

“You fucking love it don’t you? Love getting fucked? So fucking tight-” 

Bucky’s impaling him on his cock now. Sharp, pointed thrusts ripping the most delicious sounds from that gorgeous mouth.

“Harder. I need it. Harder Buck...“ Steve chants as he grinds down against him loosening the iron grip he has on Bucky’s hips, body going slack in his arms.

They’re both gleaming with sweat; Bucky feels it running down his body, pooling on his stomach, as he shifts Steve to get even deeper.

He drags Steve in and groans as he finds the perfect angle. His thrusts become deeper and impossibly faster, the head of his cock pummeling Steve's prostate with every movement. He’s never been more thankful for the knock-off serum running through his veins than he is at this very moment.

“I wish you could see yourself. Spreading yourself open for me-“ Bucky’s pants out between thrusts.

“Letting me just... Letting me just fuck into you. Fuck your so fucking tight. So fucking good.  Jesus Christ Steve!”

Steve watches Bucky with a predatory look in his eyes, mouth bitten pink, spit and sweat making it shine.

“I Love feeling, Ah, you filling me. So full- Ah- Fuck Bucky-” Steve spits out this as Bucky keeps slamming into him.

Bucky leans in and licks up’s Steve’s throat.

“You just love getting fucked. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes.

“God yes Buck. Only. Fuck! Only you. Ah. Only. You...“

Steve’s words trigger something in Bucky, something primal and possessive. Steve was all his.

"Mine" the brunette growls, biting down on the muscle in Steve’s neck.

"Your mine Stevie. All mine." he purrs against his skin as he drags his teeth up his neck.

Steve cries out at the sensation, feeling a jolt as it raced through his body straight to his throbbing cock.

"Always Buck. Always been yours. Always. Fuck! Always will be.“

The fucking becomes even more brutal after that. Bucky pounding into Steve with abandon, demolishing that tight little hole, claiming him. Now and forever. They’re both blissed out beyond words, animalistic grunts and the sound of skin striking skin becoming the only sounds in the room.

* * *

 

Bucky can feel the heat pooling at the base of his spine, he knows he’s not going to last much longer at this pace.

“Ste- Steve... I can’t. I. Fuck- I’m gonna...“

Bucky’s too far gone, and Steve is a drooling mess, moaning in his arms.

“Do it Buck. Fill me up. Make me yours.“

His hips stutter as he slams deeper and deeper, pace becoming erratic, as Steve howls. The sound is almost deafening as it bounce off the walls.

Bucky’s body tenses, pushing him past the point of no return. He gets in one more painfully deep thrust before it overtakes him.

Mouth going slack, his orgasm rips through his body like a bullet, a booming shout echoing as he’s pumping Steve full of his seed and 70 years of pent up frustration. He feels boneless, fucked out, and blissfully stupid, as his grip falters and he almost drops Steve.

Even through the blissed out haze, Bucky can feel Steve’s cock twitching against his stomach; how achingly hard he still is. With his legs shaking, threating to give out under their combined weight, he pulls out of Steve, eliciting a desperate and shaky moan from the man.

“Buck-“ Steve says whines softly. “Please Bucky... Please. I need to- ”

“Shh.. I know Baby. I know.“ Bucky says as he grips Steve’s legs, still hanging loosely around his waist, and drops to his knees, bringing them both to the ground.

Steve barks out a muffled noise of surprise at the sudden change, finding himself straddling Bucky as he lays back on the floor.

* * *

 

Steve lowers his body down; draping himself over Bucky, their chests heaving, bringing their lips together so he can explore that beautiful, filthy mouth he could never get tired of. Reflexively, Bucky's hands tighten their already painful grip on hips, making Steve’s back arch, and his shaft grind down, hard, desperately searching for the friction he needs to reach his own climax.

Bucky pulls back, breaking the kiss, and with all the strength he has left in his body, rolls them over so Steve is under him, pressed into the floor.

Bucky takes a just a second to admire the panting, desperate, beautiful mess that is currently lying beneath him, before he starts making his downward decent.

Steve feels the hot trail of saliva on his body as Bucky drags his mouth down his body, his cool metal hand trailing in the wake of the heat. 

Bucky knows it’s driving Steve crazy, if those keening noises are any indication, as his tongue slowly brushes the base of his cock.

Bucky positions himself between Steve’s knees, as he grabs onto Steve’s thighs. He shoves them apart, lifting them up, putting that abused and still twitching hole on display.

Just seeing Steve lying there, so open and exposed, knowing that he’s the one responsible, has him practically drooling on the floor. He wastes no time leaning in to swipe his tongue over Steve’s stretched out, over sensitive hole.

The scream that pours out of Steve’s mouth is indescribable, followed by a loud crack, as the floor buckles and splits where Steve’s fists slam into it.

Bucky smirks against Steve’s hole, knowing he can feel it, as he swirls his tongue around that glorious muscle, watching it twitch and clench as he continues to assault it. He slides a finger in, teasing it open even more, watching as his come begins to dribble out. Bucky moans as he dives in to gather it up on his tongue, savoring the taste as Steve cries out above him.

“Oh- Oh God.. Holy shit! Fuck! Bucky please... I just. I can’t. I can’t take it-”

Bucky pointedly ignores his pleas, and crooks his finger inside Steve, stabbing his prostate as he slips his tongue past the swollen the ring of muscle alongside his finger. His finger is jabbing into Steve’s prostate with deadly accuracy, while his tongue is fucking into him almost as hard. His face is buried in that perfect ass, the slow drip of his come now a steady stream pouring out and dripping off his lips and down his chin. He can feel Steve’s body squirming, every swipe, every jab sending his back arching further off the floor, and his ass grinding down harder into Bucky’s face.

Steve’s hands have migrated to his own body at this point. Squeezing his pecs, pinching his nipples, feeling his way across that perfect body, as his hand slowly makes its way down to his still leaking cock. His fingers barely graze his shaft, when Bucky swats them away, and cool metal wraps itself around him, tight.

The feel of that hard metal wrapped around him combined with Bucky’s continued assault on his hole, were pushing him to the breaking point. Overwhelming him, as the tears gathered in his eyes, pleading and desperate for release.

“Bu- Bucky- Ple- Fuck- Please..“

“I’ve got you Baby. I’ve got you.” Bucky mumbles, mouth still pressed to Steve’s hole, sending shockwaves of vibration through Steve’s overly sensitive body. Fists once again slamming into the floor beneath them.

Bucky slowly withdraws his finger from Steve’s aching hole, while he flattens his tongue, laving one last long strip across Steve’s quivering hole. He nuzzles at his balls, pulling one, then the other, into his mouth.

* * *

 

 

He swirls his tongue around those full, swollen orbs, and can feeling them pulse and throb in his mouth. Steve definitely wasn’t going to last much longer if he kept this up. He sucks them a bit harder as he tugs at them with his mouth, letting them fall from the suction of his lips with a wet pop.

Moving upward, his sights set on that throbbing cock just mere inches from his face. His steel grip loosens its hold on Steve’s shaft as his tongue traces up the pulsating vein on the underside of his cock, a metal fingertip flicking across the leaking slit.

Steve can’t hold back anymore, scream echoing through the room as he finally loses it.

“Buck! Bucky! FU- FUCK!“

His back arches off the floor, breath caught in his throat, his body shuddering and spasming as his orgasm rips through him like a tidal wave. His cock pulses as his seed erupts, painting his stomach and chest with rope after rope of scorching hot come.

Exhausted, fucked out, and breathless, he slumps back to the floor trying to get air back in his lungs, his heart still hammering behind his ribs.

It takes him a few beats to form any kind of coherent thought, as he feels Bucky shifting between his still trembling legs.

* * *

 

Bucky’s slowly creeping up Steve’s body, tongue tracing the paths that Steve’s come has drawn across his body, noting the small contractions in the muscles under his taut skin at every swipe of his tongue. The taste of Steve completely permeating his senses, as he finally makes it to his spit-slicked mouth.

The kiss is slow, lazy, and sloppy as he kisses that dopey looking blissed out smile right off his face. Their spit and come mix together, as Steve licks the taste of them both off Bucky’s lips. Pulling back slightly, Bucky sighs as he slowly pushes himself up and rolls off of Steve, before he can’t find the energy to do it, and winds up passed out on top of him.

He flops down on his back, head pillowed on Steve’s bicep, just listening to the sounds of their ragged breathing, the smell of sweat and sex lingering in the air around them.

* * *

 

Happily content, Bucky’s beginning to drift off when he feels Steve silently laughing beside him.

Bucky turns his head, and as soon as he catching his eye, Steve bursts out into full-blown uncontrolled laughter.

The sight of Steve being that happy, brings a smile to Bucky’s face as well, until he realizes that he has no idea what the hell Steve’s laughing at.

“The hell is so funny Rogers?”

Steve snorts, “Buck. That was nothing like our first time-”

“What?”

“You asked me if I remembered our first time. That? That was definitely not it-”

He feels the laughter bubbling just below the surface, but instead Bucky just lazily smiles up at the ceiling and shrugs.

“Course it was- Well- Maybe a little backward- Positions an’ all-“

Steve raised an eyebrow, turning to fully face Bucky.

“Ok- Might’a got a little carried away- Figured you’d appreciate the change- Ya always did like tryin’ new stuff- Didn’t here ya complainin’ at that time-” Bucky smirked.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah- I- Yeah- No complaints at all-“

Glancing down, Steve’s brows furrowed as he caught sight of the radiating cracks in the floor where his fists used to be, and then burst out laughing all over.

“Um, Buck- I think I broke the floor-”

At that, the laughter that Bucky was trying to hold on to exploded out. The ridiculousness of that statement finally pushing him past his limit.

“Steve-“ He said, rolling his eyes, fond exasperation in his voice.

“Look around. Some fucking robot blew through a wall, blasted the shit out of the ceiling, and tried to kill you... I really don’t think a few extra cracks in the floor are gonna matter at this point...”

Suddenly, as if someone slapped him, Steve’s face goes completely serious. He looks deep into Bucky’s eyes, with a hint of worry bleeding in.

“Buck. We need to talk about what happened.“

Sobering up at the tone in Steve’s voice, Bucky just stares back, lips twitching as he tries to keep the smirk off his face.

“Stevie, if you need me to explain what we just did-“

Steve slaps Bucky’s belly and rolls his eyes.

“Not that Buck“

He knows where this is heading, but he’s too tired now to deal with a serious conversation. So, he tries to re-route the conversation.

“Ah, Stark’s evil Jarvis robot thing-“

“Ultron, not Jarvis, and no Buck. Well yeah, we need to talk about that too, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ bout right now.”

Bucky just sighs, resigning himself to his fate, and slings the metal arm across Steve’s stomach as Steve’s hand threads into his hair.

“I don’t know anymore than what you saw. That fuckin’ thing was about to blast you. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. I reacted. It happened. Don’t know how it happened, and I don’t much care...“

Steve strokes his hair, a small adoring smile gracing his lips as he shifts to press a kiss to Bucky’s head. Honestly he’s too tired to deal with this either, so for once in his life, he just lets it go, for the moment at least, whispering “Thank You” into Bucky’s hair.

Bucky reaches out and laces the fingers of their free hands together and places them on his chest. Completely content even though the room looks like it could come down around them at any moment.

Bucky smirks at that. Perfect analogy of their lives laid out in one debris-laden, very obscene picture.

“Sides’” Bucky mumbles, “It’s just a dumb hammer. Nothin’ special...“

The indignant laugh that comes out of Steve makes his opinion clear as to just how much he truly doesn’t believe that.

“I couldn’t lift it“ He grumbled out, sleepily, and maybe a little jealousy, as he slotted his leg between Bucky’s trying to get more comfortable.

“What? Ya jealous Stevie?” He snickers.

“Nah. Well, a little maybe- Steve chuckles back.

Slotted together like this, Bucky can’t help but feel the movement of Steve’s leg against him. That, and the slightly jealous tone in his voice, had Bucky’s body reacting, and somehow half hard again. Even with as tired as he was, still coming down from the high of the last round, it didn’t stop him from being the same sneaky little shit he’s always been.

He takes their clasped hands, dragging them down his chest and over his stomach, coming to rest on his quickly hardening cock.

Steve’s lost in his thoughts as he feels his hand being moved, only snapping out of it when he feels a familiar hardness under his fingers. Turning he sees the playful smirk, and the teasing eyes that he’s missed for so long, staring back at him.

“So...“ Bucky purrs, squeezing their hands around his now fully hard shaft.

“You want somethin’ hard an’ heavy in your hand huh?”

Steve returns the smirk, eyes growing dark all the same.

“Yeah. It’s just that... I don’t know if I’m worthy is all...“ He huffs out, batting his eyelashes in fake innocence.

Bucky barks out a laugh as he moves into capture Steve’s lips, breathing his response as he pulls away.

“You’re the only one who ever really was“

He feels Steve’s heart rate pickup and his grip gets tighter, as he moves more even closer to Bucky.

“So how bout’ it Steve? Wanna show me what it’s like to really get ‘hammered’?”

The exasperated groan that comes from Steve’s mouth makes Bucky’s body shake with laughter, and suddenly Steve’s on top of him, smirk still fully in place.

He leans in close, voice merely a whisper in Bucky’s ear. “Don’t know about the hammerin’ Buck... But you’ll defiantly be getting nailed” 

Bucky’s responding laugh was probably loud enough to be heard from 3 miles away yet somehow, in that moment, Steve just couldn’t be burdened to care. He was happy, Bucky was happy, and to him, it was the best sound in the world.

It was the sound of finally being home.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> он был прав - He was right
> 
> Я бы никогда не поверил, если бы не увидел своими глазами - I'd never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes
> 
> \- Come find me on Tumblr [Here!](http://theredstarofjustice.tumblr.com)


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